You shall be punished
by TinkerbellReturns
Summary: Takes place after The Evil Queen. Unconvinced of Tamara's innocence, Emma Swan decides to go back to her room and ends up having to deal with a very angry Neal Cassidy as he catches her in the act. Their little fallout leads to a challenge that may result in the ultimate humiliation for him- that is, until Emma succumbs to her own urges. Rated M for Smut, and detailed sex in Ch. 3.
1. Chapter 1: Wrongdoing

**Disclaimer: Emma Swan, Neal Cassidy and the other unwanted person do not belong to me.**

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**A/N: So this is my response to Neal's workout line. Neal, man... get a grip. You shall be punished if you don't.**

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**Chapter 1: Wrongdoing**

Emma Swan would prove all of them wrong.

Tamara was evil. She knew it. She was hiding something. All she had to do was find it.

And that was why she was back at their room, rummaging through drawers, inspecting coat pockets, searching for other floorboards… She knew she didn't have much time. Neal and his fiancée had gone downstairs to grab a coffee at Granny's and that gave her only a couple of minutes before they came back.

"Who has coffee before bed, anyway…" she snorted.

_'Someone who plans to stay awake,'_ her mind replied,_ 'and do… things.'_

She made a face, and let out a rather audible _'Bleh'_ at the thought of Neal and Tamara having sex.

Then, she sobered up, straightening her shoulders.

"Who cares…" she said. "He can have sex with whoever he wants to."

_'Yeah… right,' _her mind responded.

And then, she heard someone fumble with keys outside the room.

"Aw hell no!" she whispered, her eyes wide as someone finally unlocked the door.

"I thought you knew that about me!" she heard Neal's voice, followed by some creepy female giggling.

_They were back._

"Shit," she whispered again, breaking into a silent run and hiding into the bathroom just as Neal and Tamara entered the room.

_'The bathroom? Really? Are you… are you serious?'_ her mind shrieked.

"Shut up!" she hissed, trying to ignore the fact her mind was right. Hiding in a place where people were sure to come in at some point… She was asking to be caught.

_The bathtub._

She climbed into it, thanking all the heavens for the thick curtains that now shielded her from unwanted glances from outside.

_'Great idea! Unless one of them decides to take a shower, you idiot!'_

_'Well… I wouldn't mind seeing him naked,'_ another voice inside her head replied.

_'Oh yeah? What about _her_?'_ was the response. _'Better yet, what about _them_?'_

_'What?'_ her Tallahassee self replied, curling into a ball at some corner of her mind. _'No! Nooooo! Stop it! Stop! I don't wanna see it! Stop making me see these things!'_

Just as the voices dueled inside her head, Tamara entered the bathroom.

_'Oh shit,'_ was the only response her mind could come up with. The other voices seemed to agree. _'Oh shit!'_

She peeked through the little gap between the curtain and the wall, praying for the woman to simply wash her hands and leave.

And then, Neal entered the bathroom as well, and she knew that look on his face. She knew what was on his mind.

_ 'Oh no,'_ she whimpered, mentally. _'No nononono! Please no… not in the shower…'_

"Feel like taking a shower?" he said gingerly, holding Tamara's waist as she reached for her toothbrush.

_'Bastard! Bastard! I knew it! I knew it!'_

Emma ground her teeth so hard she was sure people could hear it.

"I have already taken a shower, sweetie," the woman replied, with that fake smile of hers.

_'Jesus, Neal! How do you even fall for that?'_

"Oh, I know…" he replied, nibbling at the woman's neck, and Emma had to look away not to vomit inside her mouth. "I have too. But maybe we could… you know…"

_'I wanna leave!'_ multiple voices started screaming inside Emma's mind again. _'I wanna leave! Make it stop! Make it stop!'_

"Neal, sweetie… Better not," Tamara said, much to Emma's relief, and surprise. She actually raised her eyebrows at how uninterested the woman seemed to be. Emma herself was quite sure she wouldn't have had the same nerve… Not with an aroused Neal holding her waist like that.

"I just really want to get some rest," she continued, turning around to look at Neal with the same fake smile she had given him before. "Tomorrow I will have a full day ahead. I have to catch up with my training and all…"

"Well then…" he purred, pulling Tamara's body closer to his. "Come to bed and I'll give you a workout."

Emma winced, wrinkling her nose as she squeezed her eyes in the uttermost disgust. _Ew!_ The voices in her head restarted their simultaneous rants.

_'Come to bed and I'll give you a workout? Oh my God, Neal! Oh… my… God.'_

_'What is this? What THE HELL is this? Make it stop!'_

_'Who cares, anyway, let they go at it, I don't care, I don't, I really don't…'_

"Oh, Neal…" Tamara purred back, poking him at the ribs and urging him out of the bathroom. When she turned to close the door behind her after the man had walked to their bed, Emma caught a glimpse of her face.

The fake smile had been replaced by an expression of disgust, and she was rolling her eyes.

Emma felt her jaw had dropped.

_'On Neal… You dumb shit…'_ she thought, a sudden feeling of hatred spreading across her chest. _'She's cheating on you.'_

_'The bitch! The bitch! She… she is playing you, I knew it! And she is with you… but she doesn't want to! Of course! There is another man! The bitch!'_

"I knew it…" she whispered, as soon as the door closed and she stepped out of the bathtub.

"Come on, honey…" she heard the man whisper, as the sound of zippers and clothes being tossed to the floor. "Look what you do to me."

"Oh God no, please no," Emma whimpered, covering her eyes at his words. The horn dog. She didn't even need to see him to know what he was talking about. From what she could remember about Neal Cassidy, the man was always happy to boast about his manhood.

_'Not without reason, if I shall add…' _

Emma rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. What a time to remember her ex's penis!

"Neal…"

And then, she heard kisses, and male moans, and felt like vomiting.

_'Oh Heavens Almighty what was heard cannot be unheard! He is going to do it with her! I don't wanna hear it!'_

The moaning intensified.

"Tam, please… You have no idea…"

Oh, maybe Tamara didn't, but she, Emma, did. Neal Cassidy was not the kind of man to survive sex droughts. From the desperation in his voice, Tamara had been giving him a hard time.

_'Hard! Of course he is hard! And he is moaning again and telling her dirty things! Make it stop! Make it stooooop!'_

_'All the leaves are brown… and the sky is gray… I've been for a walk…la la la la la…'_

She started singing mentally, to stifle the man's voice as he kept trying to sex his fiancée up.

_'I don't wanna hear it… not hearing….'_

"Want me to go down on you?"

Emma's eyes nearly popped out of her head , and she grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around her face, screaming silently onto it as she bit it with all the strength she had.

_'Noooooooooooo!'_

_'Get me out of here I DON'T WANNA DO THIS ANYMORE!'_

_'California dreaming… la la la la la… on such a winters day… la la la…'_

"Neal, I've already told you I'm not into that kind of thing," Tamara replied.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I just thought…"

"Neal, baby, please, I really need to rest, ok?"

"O-Ok… I'm… I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I promise tomorrow I'll do whatever you want from me, OK? Just let me get some rest tonight."

"O-Ok…"

_'A-All the leaves are d-down... and t-the sky is… is… g-grey…'_

Emma kept singing mentally, tripping on the lyrics as she desperately tried not to imagine Neal and Tamara having sex mere two feet away from where she was.

And then, when she finally removed the towel from around her head, she heard footsteps approaching, and climbed back into the bathtub a second before Neal came in, closing the door behind him.

Oh, the look in his eyes as he leaned against the sink and stared at his own reflection in the mirror. Emma tilted her head, trying not to smile at the man's misery. Her mind, though, couldn't help but celebrate.

_'Sex with Tamara: challenge accepted. Current status: fail.'_

The man looked like he was about to burst into tears.


	2. Chapter 2: Confrontation

******Disclaimer: Again - Emma Swan, Neal Cassidy and the other unwanted person do not belong to me.**

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**Chapter 2: Confrontation**

"What am I doing wrong?" Neal Cassidy muttered, looking at his own face staring at him from the mirror.

True, Tamara had never been much of a sex enthusiast, which was perhaps the biggest of her very few flaws. From day one, it had always been a war to get into the woman's pants, and for some reason, she never seemed to have as much fun as him when he finally managed to get the action going.

Now that they were in Storybrooke, things had officially gone downhill. The only special treat he had managed to get from Tamara for days had been a half-ass handjob that ended up with her smiling kindly as he apologized for his mess.

"My God… I have had better days…" he whispered, trying to remember since when having an orgasm was a crime as he lifted the toilet seat. "And here I am… alone… again…" he continued, fishing his semi-erect cock from inside his boxers. "History of my life…"

He slid his hand up and down his shaft, after letting out a sigh.

What was he doing wrong, really? Why was Tamara growing cold? It couldn't be because of that silly breakfast, could it, the first day she was in town and met Emma?

_Emma…_

He let his mind wonder for a brief moment, and before he knew he was jacking off with far too much enthusiasm.

_'Oh, please, get a grip!' _his conscience yelled, as images of Emma danced before his eyes.

He took a long, deep breath, shaking his head as he tried to make his ex disappear.

Eventually, she did. Unfortunately, so did some of his erection.

"Oh, come on…" he groaned.

He looked at the ceiling, still stroking himself, but feeling he was actually fighting a losing battle as more conflicted thoughts crowded his mind.

It would make sense, though. He remembered her comments after that. It was as if he had been caught cheating. How ridiculous, really. Why would she even think that? Emma Swan was past. They had been in love, yes. They had planned to start a family together, yes. She was the best sex of his life? Hell yeah. Did he wish they would get back together? Oh y-

"NO!" he said, his voice a little too loud and angry for a man who was simply trying to get off. "I have no feelings for Emma Swan!" he hissed, closing his eyes and trying not to see her in his mind again, trying not to remember when she had broken into his room earlier that day.

_'Do I look like a jealous ex to you?'_ she had asked.

_'Damn right you do…'_ he had thought in response, just to beat himself mentally for actually feeling so happy about that idea. What the hell was he thinking? She couldn't be jealous of him, she hated him! She wanted him out of her life, she was over him, she had told him so that day in Manhattan. But why was she looking at him like that? Why was she _acting_ like that? Why was she giving him hope, if there was no hope? Why was he even happy there might be a chance… he was engaged, for Christ's sake!

And why… why… _why_ couldn't he stop thinking about Emma Swan?

"Oh, Emma…" he moaned, knowing his long awaited orgasm was finally near as his hand moved up and down his painfully hard cock with even more speed. "What do you want from me?"

Behind the curtains, Emma's heart skipped a beat.

_He was thinking of her. _

She swallowed a lump in her throat, trying to understand what her feelings were doing. Ever since that day in Manhattan, by the way, her feelings had done nothing but give her a hard time. Being with Neal hurt so much that she felt like screaming. Every single moment by his side was a reminder of everything they could have been, but weren't, because he had listened to Pinocchio and walked out on her. She had gone to jail because of him. Given birth to their son _in jail_ because of him. He had screwed up. Then, when they finally met each other again after eleven years, he was engaged.

They were just not meant to be.

And yet, there was something about that man that she couldn't resist… Near him, the walls around her heart were nothing but sand, and he was this wave of the ocean that kept coming and going, swiping away all the hurt and leaving her with nothing but hope…

Apparently, Neal Cassidy was the injury inflicted on her broken heart… and also the only way to heal it.

A particularly loud moan broke her reverie, and Emma sneaked another peek through the curtains. A heat wave swept through her body as he saw the muscles of his body clench and unclench as he cried – or rather, _moaned _– his release.

Poor thing. From what she remembered, he used to be much louder than that when he reached his climax. But then, she supposed it was not as if he wanted to be heard by the woman waiting for him in bed.

_ 'Goddammit, Neal… Why does everything have to be so complicated?'_ she thought, suddenly feeling bad for the man as he let out a defeated sigh. Everything was wrong. She was the one who should be waiting in that bed.

If she was, he would never have to finish himself off in the bathroom.

She watched as he wiped his hand in his thigh, and then removed his boxers and walked towards the shower.

_'Oh fuck!'_ her mind screamed in panic. _'Fuck!'_

She remained glued to the wall, and tried to think about what she would do when Neal finally pulled back the curtains. She could only hope he would not scre-

"AAAAHHH!"

She tried to shush him when they were finally face to face, doing her best not to laugh at his shocked expression as he reached out for a towel to cover himself.

In a matter of seconds, the door opened again, and Neal had just closed the curtains to hide Emma from sight when Tamara entered the bathroom.

"What happened?" she asked, her eyes darting around in search of something unusual.

"N-Nothing," Neal muttered, finding it extremely hard to think on his feet after having an orgasm and less than a minute later, spotting Emma Swan inside his bathtub.

_'Fully dressed, unfortunately,'_ his mind insisted on pointing out.

"So why did you scream?"

Tamara's voice brought him back to reality.

"I… I think I saw a gecko… in the bathtub," he muttered.

"A gecko?" she asked, reaching out to pull the curtains.

"No!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide as he grabbed her by the arms and led her out of the bathroom. "I'll deal with it. You go back to bed and rest."

As he closed the door behind him, Emma slowly pulled back the curtains.

"Neal..." she whispered. "It's not what you're thinking."

"Emma… Are you… are you _insane_?" he whispered back, walking towards the bathtub with the towel now firmly wrapped around his waist.

"I can explain."

"You can? How, what… _What the hell are you doing here?_"

"Neal… You have to believe me, there is something wrong going on…"

"No, God, no, not this again…"

He rubbed his eyes and sat at the edge of the bathtub, and Emma did the same, but making sure she was sheltered by the curtains.

"This afternoon, I-"

"Emma," he said at last, after taking a long breath. "I don't know what is going on, but I have to tell you something," he continued, staring into his ex's eyes, and trying not to choke on any of the words that were about to leave his mouth. "The woman you are so intent on accusing is the woman I'm about to get married to. She loves me and I trust her. The more you keep on trying to find something to use against her, the more I believe there is something wrong with _you_, and not with her."

Emma's lips trembled at his little lecture. She felt her eyes well up with tears, tears of anger, for him treating her like she was the maniac in the whole story.

"So I am begging you to stop, because I want us to be friends, I do, but I can't let you go on with this insanity. If you were right, you would have already found what you are looking for."

She snorted, trying to bite back the urge to call him names and breathing deeply to calm down her nerves.

"If there is one thing you know about me, Neal, is that _I never stop until I find what I'm looking for_," she replied, her voice slightly shaky with the remnants of anger still circulating in her body. "The only reason I got you into this was because I didn't want you to get hurt in the process."

It was his turn to snort.

"Really?" he whispered. "You don't want me to get hurt? This is why you want me to believe I am nothing but a pawn in the hands of the woman I got engaged to? That she has no feelings for me whatsoever? Is this how you don't mean to hurt me?"

Emma had to shake her head and let out a defeated sigh.

"Do you really need to believe it that so much, Neal?"

"What?"

"That Tamara has feelings for you?" she asked quietly, looking into his eyes. "Are you that desperate?"

She saw his eyes lose any vestige of amusement that had threatened to spark on them instants before. They were suddenly very dark, and bleak.

"You have to leave," he said, his voice a throaty whisper as he stood up.

"Before I do," Emma said, climbing out of the bathtub as silently as she could, "I just want to tell you we'll be holding a Council, and I would like you to come."

"No thanks," he answered, without looking at her.

"Neal, please."

"I'm not interested," he whispered, raising his eyebrows.

"Hey… hey," she said, grabbing his arm and forcing him to look at her. "Sorry about what I said, ok? I didn't mean to be cruel."

She bit her lower lip when it started to tremble again, and continued.

"How about this. Will you take a dare?"

Neal finally raised his eyes to hers. _Damn that woman for knowing him so well._

"What dare?"

"If I am wrong about Tamara, then you don't have to go to the Council. You don't have to do anything, really, and you still get me to apologize to you both in front of Henry. Now, if I am right… you go to the Council… wearing a dress."

He chuckled, shaking his head as she shrugged.

"Just think about it. It is fair, isn't it? If Tamara is really the woman you think she is, you lose nothing. Now, if she isn't, you pay the price for not having trusted me."

"You want me to wear a dress in front of my son?"

"I'm sure he would find it hilarious," she said, with a sly smile curling her lips. "Boy has my sense of humor."

"He has _your_ sense of humor?" Neal winced. "Let's hope, then, that he doesn't have your sense of direction. One ailment is enough."

"Oh, so funny. I am literally bursting with internal laughter at your joke."

"When is the Council?"

"In two days. And since you think I am the crazy one here… Chances are high that you will walk away with your dignity intact."

Neal stared into her eyes for a long moment. He really couldn't understand what his life had become. Now they were cracking jokes at each other, a mere minute after he had literally brought tears to her eyes in his defense of Tamara. He had to recognize that Emma's intuition had always impressed him, even though he would never, _ever_ admit he believed in her "lie detector" thing. But seriously, there was no way she could be right this time. There was _no way_ Tamara was pulling such a stunt on him.

"Deal," he whispered, outstretching his arm.

As she shook his hand, Emma tried her best not to smile. He would lose, and he would be wearing a dress. Oh, the sweet taste of revenge! Two days. _Two days,_ and he would know what it was like to feel like an idiot.

_'Yes, Neal… You shall be punished,'_ her mind whispered in victory.

"Now let's get you out of here, shall we?" he said, scratching his head after letting out a sigh.

"What's the plan?"

"I'll distract Tamara… and then you'll just sneak out."

"You'll 'distract' her?"

"Yup."

"How?" she asked, although she feared she knew the answer.

"Emma… let's just… get this over and done with, ok?" he replied, not really willing to go into further detail. What he was about to do was likely to put even more strain on his relationship with Tamara, but he would find a way to make up for it afterwards.

And so, he left the bathroom, leaving the door open so that Emma, who was hiding behind it, could take her cue as to when it would be safe to come outside.

After letting the towel wrapped around his waist fall to the floor, he slowly climbed into bed and hugged Tamara from behind, nuzzling her hair as he pressed his body against hers.

"Neal… What are you doing?" he heard her sleepy voice ask.

"I'm sorry, honey…" he whispered, catching her earlobe between his teeth. "I really tried to finish off without you… but I just can't." His eyes then moved to the bathroom door, and caught Emma looking at him with a disgusted expression on her face. "I need you."

"Neal..." Tamara groaned, trying to move her body away from his.

"Please."

He moved his eyes away from Emma's when Tamara let out a sigh and finally allowed him to roll her on her back. He positioned himself between her legs and smiled, making sure to cover her face with his shoulder so that she wouldn't see Emma sneaking out of the bathroom.

And then, Emma stopped, her gaze transfixed as she looked at the nightstand, making Neal's heartbeat race as panic flooded his bloodstream. If Tamara looked up, he would be ruined.

He pressed his fiancee's head further down the pillow with his shoulder.

"Neal!" she shrieked. "My head!"

"Sorry, honey…" he whispered, apologetically, as Emma crawled towards the door with Tamara's cell phone firmly secured in her hand. "Maybe you should be on top?"

As Tamara straddled him, he caught another glimpse of his ex, now ready to leave the room as she silently turned the doorknob.

And then, again, she stopped, looking behind her shoulder as Tamara took off her pajama top.

And she stayed, looking at him with a very unhappy face.

'GO!' he mouthed, in the split second Tamara looked the other way to get rid of her clothes.

But Emma stayed. _And she kept looking_.

Tamara lowered her mouth to his neck, and now he had literally no choice but to look at the woman standing by the door.

_She would not go away until he stopped what he was doing._

_'Not a jealous ex my ass!'_ his mind snarled.

"Honey, stop, stop," he said, and when his eyes met Emma's, he realized she was smiling.

"What?" Tamara exclaimed with a very confused expression on her face.

"I… I just… It's not right, you're tired, I don't … like… really," he tripped on his own words as he gently pushed his fiancée away from his lap, realizing that even if he wanted to go through with it, getting an erection under those circumstances would be virtually impossible.

"Why do you keep looking at the door?" Tamara asked, finally turning her head around as she put on the pajama top she had just taken off, still slightly distraught at the latest developments.

Luckily for him, Emma Swan was finally gone.


	3. Chapter 3: Resolution

**Chapter 3: Resolution**

Two days later, Neal Cassidy sat by the window of his room at Granny's. Obviously, not the same one he had shared with Tamara, not after learning everything she had been plotting. To think that all it had taken for her mask to fall was cross the messages and calls exchanged between her cell phone and that guy's, Greg Mendell.

He felt like an idiot. He had been, after all, a mere pawn in the woman's hands.

She had never cared.

He took another sip of his scotch, trying to pinpoint the parts of him that made him so unattractive to the people around him, so… _unworthy_ keeping.

And then, he remembered the only one person who had truly considered him someone, and an irreplaceable someone at that, worthy every minute of her time, worthy settling down with, and it made him want to cry.

He had duped the only person he had been genuinely happy with. Destroyed her life. Ruined their future. _No._ He couldn't afford to go there, not now, when he had to deal with yet another betrayal. It was too much. He was not ready.

He poured more scotch into his glass, and kept waiting, looking at the dark sky outside. A storm was coming, and it would be a cold, rainy night.

"Neal?" Emma called out, after knocking on his door.

"Come in," he replied.

"Jesus Christ Almighty!"

She couldn't help but gasp when she saw the man sitting by the window, wearing a ridiculously tight - and short – red leather dress and black stockings.

"Hey," he said, looking at her with a sly smile on his lips. "Came to claim your prize?

"Where _the hell_ did you get that dress?"

"Ruby."

"Ruby?"

"Yup."

"The stockings?"

"Bought'em."

"Wow…" Emma raised her eyebrows, closing the door behind her and walking towards her ex. "You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?"

He shrugged in response.

"I'm done doing half-ass jobs in my life," he muttered, taking another sip of his drink and trying not to laugh at his blatantly lame accomplishments. "If I'm gonna be in drag, then I'll do it good."

"I see…" Emma replied, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms to look at him. "How are you feeling?"

He smiled, avoiding her eyes at all costs. The truth was that everything hurt: his head, his heart, his pride… And it hurt in a way he didn't feel he could cope with, so he had just turned off that button inside his mind, and inside his heart. That was how he was dealing with it: _by not dealing with any of it. _Every time he threatened to do so, he felt he would break. And he didn't want to, so… he simply wouldn't.

"Fine," he whispered, finally raising his eyes to hers with a weak smile on his lips. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, I was wrong. It happens."

He watched as she moved towards him, her blue eyes still piercing his.

"I just… I just wanted you to know that… I'm sorry about Tamara," she said, standing by his side near the window as she spoke. "Honest. What she did to you… was horrible, Neal."

He snorted, again shifting his gaze to the floor.

"Well… ever heard the expression, _'laser-guided karma'_?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as unconcerned as possible. "I guess it means, screw up someone's life, and someone will eventually screw up yours."

And then he chuckled, but Emma didn't.

"I'm fine," he said, sipping his scotch again. "Really… I am."

"Do you really think that ignoring what happened is the best way to deal with it?"

He cleared his throat and blinked at her words.

"Well you tell me," he whispered, lifting his eyes to her face. "Is it?"

Her body seemed to go stiff for the fraction of a second, and she dropped her gaze before speaking.

"Neal… I… I don't… what…"

"Never mind," he said, looking away as well. It was not as if he actually wanted to have that talk, anyway.

A long minute of awkward silence went by before Emma spoke again.

"Well… you'd better lose the dress, we have to go."

"Whaaaat?" he exclaimed, unable to hide his disappointment. "What do you mean, _'lose the dress'_? It took Ruby forever to get me into it."

"Ruby?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, she gave me… _a hand_," he answered, realizing that Emma's eye had twitched at that last word. "But no need to be jealous, nothing happened. "

This time, Emma didn't even bother to come up with a response to the 'jealous ex' taunt. She would let it slide for the time being.

"I bet you wish it had…" she replied, poking him on the arm and motioning for him to turn around so that she could unzip the outrageous garment.

"Nah. If I did, then it would have happened."

Emma simply rolled her eyes at his overconfident statement. She wondered, for a moment, if Neal would really have it in him to make a move on a woman that could literally have him for breakfast at any given time of the day.

"You know me," he said, casting a sideway glance towards her as she unzipped his dress.

"I sure do," she said, yanking down his dress without much of an explanation, and hoping that the indifferent tone of her voice would make it clear she was not making a move on him.

Unfortunately, the thing got stuck around his hips, and no matter how hard she tried to pull it down, or up, for that matter, the dress wouldn't budge.

"My God, Neal, how did you even get into this dress?"

"Right?" he chuckled, slightly surprised Emma was that intent on undressing him. "I wanted to be sexy."

"You're drunk."

"I'm not. I can hold my liquor, another thing you know very well."

"Then you simply lost it," Emma replied, still trying to get the dress past his hips.

"More like it."

"Neal…" Emma raised his eyes to his, and there was more than a hint of worry in her face.

"I'm fine," Neal said, looking at the floor again. "I am, really."

He then reached for the bottle of scotch on the dresser, and tried to turn the conversation around.

"Seriously, why have you changed your mind about our bet?" he asked.

"Because _I _would end up being ridiculed for walking around town with a man who looks like a…" she paused, and looked at him from head to toe, "…testosterone-filled drag queen slash stoned stripper with a heartache and a dress too tight for her own sake."

He chuckled again. She was good at bantering. In a way, how could she not be? She had learnt it from the best.

"I see…" he said, still finding the whole situation incredibly amusing.

She had finally managed to get one of her hands under the dress, but withdrew it as if she had touched fire when her skin brushed against a very intimate part of his body.

"Where's your underwear?" she asked, with a shocked look in her wide eyes.

"Got lost in the process," he replied, all of a sudden feeling very hot after Emma's hand had brushed against his family jewels. "It was either the dress going down my hips or my boxers going up. No space for both."

"Jesus…" she whispered, again sliding her hand under his dress and hoping not to touch his balls again.

"It keeps getting better, right?"

"It sure does," she moaned, again trying to yank the damn dress down, to no avail. "Neal… How…"

"Must be the sweat," he replied, feeling that maybe, just maybe, his growing erection was making her task… _harder._ "Thing got glued to my body," he continued. "This is why I always hated leather."

Emma put her hands on her hips and let out a sigh.

"We'll just have to cut you out of it."

"Nah," he replied, taking his glass to his lips and eyeing the woman standing before him with renewed interest. "Use the lotion."

"What?"

"Use the lotion," he repeated, pointing to a flask of body lotion over the nightstand. "It will make my skin… _slippery._"

He licked his lips and winked, and Emma felt like punching him in the groin.

The horny bastard.

"Yeah, right," she replied, trying to sound uninterested, despite the gentle tingle between her legs.

Her body could not be serious. Was she really getting aroused? _What was wrong with her?_

"I'm not letting you cut it," he said, raising his eyebrows. "And I actually think I look great, so… either use the lotion, or deal with the disapproving glances on our way to the Council."

"Oh for crying out loud, Neal."

She threw a little tantrum, just like she did that time when he insisted on them going to a bar in Manhattan, and marched towards the nightstand to get the damn lotion.

She couldn't actually believe she was going to do what she was going to do. When she kneeled in front of him, his eyes made it clear she had just signed up for something she would regret later.

"You are having the time of your life, aren't you?" he said, staring at her with a delighted look on his face.

"You're hilarious," she groaned, squeezing some of the lotion on her hands and putting the flask away before rubbing her palms together.

She took a long, deep breath, and bit her lip at the sight of his hips.

That was _so_ wrong. But what choice did she have?

She looked at the ceiling as her hands slipped up his thighs, spreading the lotion across his skin. She felt his muscles clench at her touch, and had to bite back a moan as her own body responded to his reaction.

"We should do this more often," he whispered, staring at her with hungry, lust-filled eyes.

He felt his cock twitch when she lowered her eyes from the ceiling to look at his face, a slight flush coloring her cheeks and revealing the arousal she was fighting so hard to conceal.

"Nah…" she answered, taking a deep breath to steady her trembling fingers as they again brushed against his balls. "Not sure about it."

This time, he failed to stifle a moan, and Emma gave him a startled look that made him want to laugh. She shook her head, trying to focus on what she was doing, sliding her hands up his hips and then withdrawing them to squeeze more lotion onto her palms.

Neal kept staring at her with his mouth half-open. What the fuck was he doing? Well, so far, nothing, but as soon as Emma managed to take off his dress, which she was about to do, the two of them would have to deal with a _huge_ problem.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as her hands, once again, slid up his thighs, and then around his hips and butt.

"My God…" she whimpered. "I can't believe I'm doing this!"

"As soon as you're done," he replied, his voice coming out of his throat in a low, deep whisper, "I'll make sure to return the favor…"

"Neal, please…"

She felt embarrassed at how lewd she had sounded. That 'please' was supposed to be loaded with disdain, not desire, goddammit! What was wrong with her? What was she thinking?

As her hands grabbed the rim of the dress and it finally slid down his hips, she couldn't help but moan.

"Must have been the friction," Neal explained, hardly able to contain a smile as she stared at his fully engorged cock straining against his belly with a look of desperation in her eyes.

"I'm sure it was," she replied, meekly.

"You're only gonna… stare at it?"

"I'm not staring at it."

"Yes… _you are_."

She was, of course she was. If she had any sort of good sense left in her, she would just stand up and walk away. But no. Instead, her hands were now resting on his hips, and she could think of nothing other than either sucking him right then and there, or dragging him to bed and riding him until both of them were a panting bundle of sweaty limbs.

Both ideas were simply downright _bad_. Wrong. Unacceptable.

She rested her head on his groin, feeling the gentle throb of his sex against her forehead.

"Emma…"

"Hmm?"

"This is the strangest blowjob of my life."

"Shut up, Neal," she said, with her eyes still closed. "I'm trying to think here."

"Oh, really?" he replied, wrinkling his forehead. "Sorry then."

His mind was not processing anything anymore. It was better that way. If it did, he would run away, completely naked, scared at the disastrous prospects of that situation.

"Though… There is not much to think about, is there?" he whispered, sticking to his goal of not thinking about anything, anytime soon. "It's just sex."

Her eyes shot open, and she tilted her head to look at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

"Is that what this is to you?" she asked. "A one-night stand?"

He swallowed a lump in his throat and blinked, trying not to let his feelings for that woman get in the way. Sex with Emma Swan would never be a meaningless one-night stand, but dealing with all the mess that their relationship was at the moment was something he simply wasn't ready to do.

"Yes," he whispered, and for a moment he could swear he saw her eyes flash with disappointment. "I can live with it. Can't you?"

Stuffing his guilt into some dark corner of his mind, both for lying about his feelings and for needing so desperately to make love to her, even if the two of them ended up getting hurt in the process, he simply shrugged.

"I mean, I'm not proposing or anything… Not offering to be your knight in shining armor… No promises… Just… sex."

He knew he sounded crude and heartless, and part of him hated himself for that. Right now, though, there wasn't much he would be able to offer, and it would be unfair to make her believe he was in any place to give her anything other than a mind-blowing night of sex.

Emma kept silent, looking from his eyes to his cock with an uncertain look on her face.

"You know what? You're right," he said, grabbing her hands and helping her get on her feet as he prepared to walk away. "This is a bad idea."

"Neal…" he heard her whisper behind him as he searched around for his clothes.

"It's ok."

"Neal, no, wait…"

Emma grabbed his arm and made him turn around to look at her face.

"Emma, you know I hate pity sex."

"I don't think you truly hate any kind of sex," she replied, raising an eyebrow as she bit her lip.

"Maybe so… But if you don't want it, fine, let's just for-"

"But I _do_ want it."

It was the most absolute truth. She wanted him, and her whole body was burning with want. She wanted him, _she needed him_, and the only thing stopping her from finally giving in to her craving was this thin line of sense that kept yelling at her to step back while she could. _He was Neal Cassidy._ He was not a random man she would have sex with, and move on from the following day. He would be there the following day. _And then the next._ She would have to look at his face and know that she had consented to add that extra layer of complication to their already ultra-complicated relationship. He was not thinking straight, and how could he, after all that had happened to him? _She_ had to be the reasonable one. _She_ had to make the difficult choice.

"I just… it's just…" she muttered, hunting for words that insisted on escaping her.

_'That I still love you and I'm too scared we'll fuck it all up?'_

She swallowed, moving closer to him and making the conscious choice of leaving all reasonable thought for another day. At the end of the day, he was not the only one who was deliberately not dealing with a lot of stuff; she felt she had been doing exactly the same thing. She was not ready to scratch the surface of their unfinished business, and as long as they both could agree neither of them would let their feelings take over, then what the hell? A night of wild sex couldn't cause any more damage than all the other crap that had been thrown at them time and again.

"It's just sex, right?" she asked, reaching out to touch his shoulders and feeling her fingers burn at how hot his skin was.

He swallowed. It was really going to happen. If he wanted to change his mind, that was the time.

"Right," he replied, unsure he would be able to keep the promise her words implied: only fucking - no feeling, no thinking. "You sure you're not gonna regret it?"

"Oh, I'm sure _I'm gonna _regret it," she replied, pulling her top over her head and reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck. "But I can live with it."

And then, before he could actually come to terms with what they were about to do, her mouth was over his, his naked body was pressing against hers, he had lost his stockings and his hands were desperately trying to unbuckle her belt. There was urgency in every gesture, the desperation of years of waiting, the hidden fear that one of them would come to their senses and step back.

"Emma," he moaned, breathing heavily into her mouth as he cupped her face with one hand and grabbed a fistful of her hair with the other.

She was clumsily getting rid of her boots to step out of her jeans as fast as it was humanly possible, her lips never leaving his, her tongue darting out to lap his, to taste him, to devour his scotch flavored lips, as her whole body shuddered at his touch.

When her jeans had finally slid down her legs, he lifted her in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and moving his lips to her neck, sucking at the tender flesh over her pulse, her moans making him throb painfully, his whole body in a fever as he laid her on the bed.

And then, for a moment, as he settled his body between hers, their kiss became softer, slower, more tantalizing as he ran her hands up her waist, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra and allow his bare chest to make contact with her hardened nipples. She moaned louder into his mouth when one of his hands closed around her breast, clutching at her flesh, mercilessly. His mouth made its slow descent towards her neck, and from there to her breast, his mouth replacing his hand as his tongue flicked gently around her nipple, and then harder, sucking it, wetting it with his saliva. His hand had reached between her legs, touching her sex over her soaked panties.

"Oh my God, Emma…." he moaned as his fingers pulled the flimsy piece of fabric aside, his skin finally touching her dripping wet slit.

Emma writhed at his touch, gasping and grinding her hips against him, desperate to increase contact, to find some release. Fuck, Neal. Fuck, Neal a million times. What was he doing to her? Sex, yes, obviously, but how come she was so close to…_ coming_ already? Her back had barely hit the mattress!

He couldn't help but smile. Emma Swan. His mind was spinning out of control as she rubbed her body against his, waves after waves of pleasure making him shiver, making him harder and hotter for her. Emma… Swan… His cock twitched as thoughts of sliding inside her filled his mind, but he would bid his time… He wanted it to last.

As his fingers gently glided along her moist folds, his mouth moved to her other breast, repeating the same ritual as he licked and sucked… he shifted his glance to her face, and saw her eyes had fluttered closed.

"Hey," he said, breaking her blissful reverie as he smiled, lowering his chin onto her belly. She looked at him, clearly annoyed with that rude interruption. "I told you I would return the favor, didn't I?"

It was her turn to smile.

"What you waiting for?" she whispered, feeling slightly out of breath as his fingers played with her clit.

"Someone is feeling antsy…" he replied, lazily tapping his fingers around her navel.

"Neal…" she hissed through gritted teeth. "You should not tease an aroused woman."

"Granted," he whispered back, smiling as he withdrew his wet fingers from her and helped her out of her panties, placing her thighs over his shoulders as he covered her sex with his mouth, spreading her lips apart so that his tongue could flick against her clit.

One long, wet lick, and she arched her back and screamed, her muscles clenching under his tongue.

"This fast?" he asked, licking his lips as he raised his head to look at her. "I barely got started…"

Her body was shaking with the aftershocks of her climax, and for a second she thought of letting his remark go unnoticed. What did he expect? He surely didn't know that, but Emma Swan, the Savior, hadn't gotten any for a very long time. She had slayed a dragon… broken a curse… jumped through crazy portals… climbed beanstalks… but her most basic needs were not being met.

How could she be blamed for being a little… overexcited?

"I guess I've... been... undersexed... for a while," she panted, her heart still in a frenzy as she raised an eyebrow as she looked at him, who had again rested his chin on her belly.

"You? Undersexed? How come?"

"Storybrooke doesn't exactly have the best suitors in the planet."

"Oh…" he replied, slightly taken aback by that revelation. "Well, if that makes you feel better, " he continued, lifting himself on his elbows and pulling his body upward, so that his face was aligned with hers again, "my sex life with Tamara wasn't exactly an exciting one."

She couldn't help but smile in triumph. Regardless of where they were at, nothing changed the fact that woman was a heartless bitch who didn't even deserve to be remembered by Neal, let alone to retain the memories of some of the best sex of his life.

"Oh yeah…" she whispered. "That _does_ make me feel better.

And then, she felt him slide the tip of his tongue into her ear, and her body was again swept by a giant wave of pleasure.

"And that too… Oh my God, Neal…"

He gave his cock a gentle stroke before moving his mouth from her ear to her lips, gently licking the corner of her lips before capturing her tongue in a hot, wet kiss.

"Just admit it, Emma…" he whispered, pulling back briefly as he prepared to enter her. "Even if Storybrooke had the best suitors in the planet…" he said, gently fingering her as he whispered, "…you know no man can make you come like I do."

True. But did he really think she would admit it?

"You just can't stop bragging, can y-"

And then he finally penetrated her, and the rest of her sentence died in her mouth as she came again, this time with a silent cry of joy.

"I guess I could…" he said, feeling her tightness increase around his cock as pleasure raided her body. "But you're not helping, you know?"

"Oh fuck yeah," she panted. She was sure there was something she could say to keep the bantering going, but right now, the 'thinking coherently' part of her brain was not working properly, so why bother? "Fuck… Yeah."

"Oh my God I missed you so much," he whispered, breathing heavily as he slid in and out of her body, feeling his whole body was burning as she spread her legs and tilted her hips upwards to allow him further access to her dripping wet sex.

"I missed you too," she whispered back.

For a moment, he failed to register what they had just said to each other. Then, he remembered they had agreed that would be a night of nothing but wild, raw sex, with no feelings involved, and realized they had just broken one of the agreement clauses.

Apparently, so did Emma, who looked positively mortified when she opened her eyes to look at him.

"O-Or maybe not. N-not that much," she stuttered.

Neal blinked, and slowly withdrew from her wetness, looking deeply into her eyes. She was so confused. Part of him was rejoicing at her obvious feelings for him; part of him felt devastated at how much those feelings seemed to trouble her.

Of course she hadn't forgiven him for what he had done.

"Neal…" she moaned, as he slowly slid back in, his eyes still piercing hers.

No matter how much pleasure had helped him go on until that moment, something was beginning to crack inside him as he looked into her eyes. Perhaps it had been the realization of how much pain he still caused her. Perhaps it was the fact he had brought her wrist to his lips, and was now biting softly at her flesh, seeing her eyes close again as she moaned.

He knew how much she loved to be kissed on that spot.

But then, as he looked at that flower tattooed on her skin, he also knew that she remembered, just like he did, that that sweet spot had been one of the last he had touched that night in Portland. And the memory of fastening a stolen watch to it – her one-way ticket to eleven months in jail – was making him drown in his own regret, once again.

Before he knew, his whole body was shaking, and he felt like screaming.

Luckily, her eyelids were still closed when all that agony tainted his eyes, and he had time to pull out and roll her on her belly before she realized he was crying. For a painful moment, he was absolutely sober, and the fact he was actually having sex with Emma after everything he had put her through, sickened him beyond words. Drawing in a long breath, he waited until he got his feelings and thoughts back under control to position himself between her legs, entering her from behind.

He was glad he could not see her eyes for a moment. If he did, he was not sure he would be able to go on. As he thrust into her, he felt tears run down his face, and then land on her back, and he quickly wiped them away before she realized there was something wrong.

"Neal?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Let me see your face."

_Crap._

He sniffed, and quickly wiped away his tears before sliding out of her and letting her roll on her back again.

"Are you crying?"

"No," he answered, smiling at her as he tried to catch his breath. If they stopped now, he would feel even worse than he was already feeling. "I'm sweating. Works for you?"

"Your eyes are sweating?"

"A little, yeah," he whispered, kissing her lips as he lay down by her side, stroking his cock as she moved over to straddle him. "And you're in no position to talk, because you look quite messy yourself."

He bit his lip as she lowered herself onto him, her knees resting by his sides. He closed his eyes and just let pleasure wash over him as her wetness engulfed him, shutting his mind to all thoughts, to all memories, to all images he did not want to see…

"Oh, fuck, Emma…" he moaned, opening his eyes again in time to see her throw her head back as one of his hands moved up her body to fondle her breast, and the other headed south to slowly rub her clit as she rode him.

Emma was not sure she bought the whole sweating talk, but again, it was not as if she could afford to have a heart-to-heart about his feelings right now. If he had a meltdown, so would she, and that was exactly what she had been running from, to begin with. So, she would simply carry on with what they both knew how to do best: pleasuring each other.

"What, ran out of taunts already?" she whispered, looking at him with a sly smile on her lips, her breath coming in short gasps now that another orgasm approached.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

And then, she realized his eyes were moist again.

"Oh Neal… don't do that to me."

"What?"

"You're _thinking._"

Neal swallowed and blinked, trying to shut down his mind again. Emma was giving him that worried look that he found both disturbing and soothing, and he didn't want to ruin it for her – or for him, for that matter. He was way too close to his peak to stop now.

"Actually, I'm just trying to distract myself here… not to cum," he said, biting his lower lip as he prepared his final taunt for the night. "You're riding me too hard."

She chuckled at his insolence. _Too hard?_ What a joke.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing her palms against his legs as she let her body slide backwards, moving faster, and harder, now that her new angle removed some of the strain from her thighs.

"Better now?" she panted, feeling her muscles clench and unclench as his fingers gently pinched her clit, sending her over the edge.

"Oh fuck, Emma…"

And then, it was his turn to cry his release, his body tensing up as spasm after spasm made him shudder in pleasure.

The other guests at Granny's were sure having a hell of night, as the two of them cursed, and yelled, and moaned, and groaned, lost in each other's bodies, their limbs tangled in a mess of sweat and cum and everything else.

His orgasm seemed to last for ages. From the dazzled look in Emma's eyes, so did hers.

"You know," he panted, as soon as she disengaged herself from him and fell limply by his side, staring idly at the ceiling. "You still owe me a blowjob… I mean, using your mouth, not your forehead."

And then, she looked at his face, and they both laughed.

"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?" she asked, trying to stifle a yawn now that her heart rate was finally returning to normal.

"Not really, no," he answered, feeling that his eyelids were growing heavier as well. "But with you… yeah. I think I like everything better when I'm with you."

He saw her blink, and then slowly roll on her side to take a better look at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn-"

"It's fine," she interrupted, snuggling closer to him. "Seriously. It's ok."

He forced himself to keep his eyes open, despite the urge to doze off. What now? The first part of their night of "wild, raw sex" had worked out just fine, except for the little moment when he almost had a nervous breakdown. But…what now? Was cuddling part of the package deal, or was it completely off the table? What about pillow talk? Would she cue him in as to when it was time he picked up his stuff and left?

But wait… They were in _his_ room. Technically, she was the one who would have to leave. Should he tell her to? What if he didn't _want_ her to? What if she was expecting him to? What if she_ wasn't_?

He slowly moved one of his arms around her shoulders, testing the waters.

"Maybe… maybe we should go to the Council?" he whispered, wondering if he was making the right move. The truth was that he wished that night would never end. Regardless of everything, of all the conflict that took place inside him when he was with Emma Swan, of all the issues he would have to deal with sooner or later, there was no other place he wanted to be. He knew that when they both left that room, it was back to real life and at some point they would have to open the can of worms that their past was.

For now, he just wanted to stay there, feeling her warm breath against his skin.

"They must be waiting for us," he concluded.

"I know. Just… give me a few minutes, ok?"

Emma felt her eyes flutter closed as she finished her sentence. And so, she stayed, leaning against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as his arm rested lazily around her shoulders. It was raining outside, and the sound of raindrops hitting the window helped silence all her concerns about everything – about Tamara and Greg, about Regina, about the Enchanted Forest, about her life, about Neal.

She felt the tips of his fingers rub against her scalp, and then his mouth descended onto her forehead for a series of very soft, very warm kisses.

_He understood._

And for those very long, very silent minutes, their lives were perfect.

The storm outside could wait.


End file.
